My dad was an occasional alcoholic. By that, I mean he didn't drink every night, didn't drink even every week or even every month. But when he did drink, he drank all day starting before noon sometimes and wouldn't (couldn't?) quit until he was literally falling down drunk.
He didn't drive, so he would walk the six or so blocks it took to get to the closest bar. There were a couple of nights I watched him from my bedroom window coming home after the bars closed, staggering wildly and even falling down in the middle of the road. He could never just have one beer (that was his choice of drink). If he had one, he had to keep going until he was falling down drunk.
It grew worse when he took up the game of golf, in his late 40s, early 50s, which he grew to love. I suspected he loved it as much for the beer as he did for the golf, because he would go every weekend. My mom would have to drive him there and back. So now instead of the occasional alcoholic, he drank every weekend. He couldn't drink to falling down status, however, because mom would go pick him up in time for supper.
So I have alcoholism in my family and it came close to biting me in the butt too. In fact, it may have, but I seem to be different somehow.
When I was in my late 20s, early 30s, I started drinking more heavily. I would drink four and five times a week heavily. My job at the time, we had deadlines for work on Wednesday and once that work was done, which it always was at about noon, we were free to leave. On top of that, Thursday was always a slow day, which made Wednesday seem like just another weekend. So I started drinking on Wednesdays and some days even Thursday evenings. It was like a five-day weekend, almost, and I'd be drunk every night. It was that way for nearly two years. I also drank very heavily in college before that.
It got really bad, but then I got married. I could no longer afford to drink that often. Then I had kids and really couldn't afford to drink that often. My wife, however, thought differently and wanted to continue to be the party girl. So we'd go out occasionally, but not to the extent that we used to, which didn't sit well with her, which was part of the reason we were divorced.
Then one day, I just quit. There was no big "ah ha" moment, no hitting rock bottom situation. I can't even say it was a conscious decision. I just lost interest in it and didn't even recognize that I had lost interest for quite a while. I just stopped going to bars. Part of it may have had to do with growing older and dreading crowded bars with too loud music where you couldn't hear what anyone was saying, part of it may have been growing tired of feeling bad the next day.
The reason I think I may be a different kind of alcoholic is because I can still have a drink now and then with my supper if I go out to a restaurant. But it's only one, never any more than that and not even every time I go out to dinner. I can't remember the last time I even had a drink at a restaurant, but it's been over a year. I have a bottle of bourbon that I bought five years ago that is still three quarters full.
So was I an alcoholic? If I wasn't, I was sure headed that way. But I'll never go back to drinking heavily, even on a special occasion because I like the way I feel when I wake up in the mornings now.